The morning sun filtered through the small attic window, laying a gentle warmth across Jiang Yining’s face.
She stirred, her mind still foggy, but the moment awareness returned, she shot upright.
“My phone.”
She scrambled across the bed, hands searching blindly until they found the cold, rectangular device. The screen lit up, showing a full battery.
Then, as if it had been waiting for this exact moment, the phone began to vibrate wildly.
The notification bar flooded instantly.
Dozens of unread messages.
Over a hundred missed calls.
All from the same number.
Jiang Yining’s heart sank as her trembling fingers tapped into the messages.
The first one read, “Is this Ningning?”
The second, “Ningning, is it you? Call me back.”
The third, “I’m begging you, please answer the phone…”
As she scrolled further, the messages grew shorter, more fragmented, each one carrying rising panic, fear, and a fragile thread of hope.
She could almost see it.
Her mother is sitting alone, clutching her phone, sending message after message, slipping from hope into despair.
Her nose stung. Tears welled up in her eyes.
Before she could finish reading, the screen lit up again.
That number.
Calling.
The phone vibrated sharply in the quiet room, the sound almost unbearable.
She stared at it, her heart pounding violently against her chest. Her throat tightened, her palms damp with cold sweat.
This time, she was even more nervous than before.
The call rang out.
Stopped.
Then, almost instantly, it rang again.
She closed her eyes, drew in a deep breath, and with all her strength, pressed the answer button.
Pressing the phone tightly to her ear, she heard a faint hum.
Then—
A trembling voice.
“Hello? Is… is that Ningning?”
Every word was cautious, fragile, as if her mother feared the slightest mistake would shatter everything.
Jiang Yining opened her mouth.
No sound came out.
Her throat was locked tight.
Tears blurred her vision as they slid silently down her cheeks.
The silence stretched.
On the other end, something seemed to break.
Her mother’s voice dropped, heavy with bitterness and despair, laced with a self-mocking laugh that hurt to hear.
“Heh… I knew it. I knew it wasn’t real. Even if it was a scammer, it would’ve been fine… at least… at least let me hear her voice one more time. My Ningning… she’s already… already…”
That broken voice pierced straight through her heart.
Jiang Yining couldn’t hold back any longer.
“Mom, it’s me!”
Her voice tore free through sobs.
“I’m Ningning, your baby girl, Ningning!”
The line went completely silent.
No breathing.
No sound.
Only stillness.
She knew how unbelievable this sounded. She had to explain, even if it made her sound insane.
Words tumbled out in a rush.
“Mom, I know I died in that car accident eight years ago. I don’t know how it happened either. But when I woke up, it was eight years later. I’m in someone else’s body now, a girl also named Jiang Yining. She runs a flower shop. I know this sounds crazy, like something out of a novel, but it’s true. Do you believe me?”
Silence.
A few seconds that felt like forever.
Then—
“I believe you.”
Her mother’s voice came back, trembling but resolute.
“I believe you, Ningning. Mom believes you. Tell me where you are. I’m coming to you right now.”
There was no hesitation.
No doubt.
Only certainty.
At those words, the crushing weight in Jiang Yining’s chest finally loosened.
“Mom, I’m in H City, 369 Guangming Road. Lemon Whisper Florals. It’s a small flower shop.”
After giving the address, she hesitated, then asked instinctively,
“Mom… are you still living in our old alley? The one with the big banyan tree at the entrance?”
That simple, ordinary question struck like a key turning in a lock.
On the other end, her mother’s breathing became unsteady.
“Yes… yes, the old alley, the banyan tree… it’s gone. The government demolished it years ago, it’s a plaza now. Ningning, you…”
“Mom.”
Jiang Yining took a deep breath.
She needed to prove it completely.
Her voice softened, like a child confessing a secret.
“Do you remember when I was five, that summer… I wet the bed. I was scared you’d scold me, so I hid the sheets under Yunting’s bed. The next morning, he slipped on them and cried so loudly the whole neighborhood heard him.”
On the other end, her mother’s breath caught sharply.
That memory.
A tiny, embarrassing secret.
Something only the two of them knew.
Even her father and brother had never found out.
“And…” Jiang Yining’s voice trembled, thick with longing, “during my senior year of high school, when I stayed up late every night… you were worried I’d be cold. So every night, you secretly put a hand warmer in my desk drawer. You wrapped it in your old handkerchief, and you embroidered a tiny ‘Ning’ on it with red thread…”
A second later—
A cry broke through the phone.
Loud.
Unrestrained.
Filled with eight years of pain and longing finally breaking free.
“It’s my Ningning… it’s really my Ningning… you came back…”
Her mother sobbed uncontrollably, her voice shaking as if she could barely breathe.
Jiang Yining cried with her.
All the years of separation, all the pain, all the longing, poured out at once.
“Ningning, stay where you are,” her mother said urgently through her tears. “Don’t go anywhere. I’m booking flights right now. I’ll bring your father and your brother. Just wait for me. Whatever you do, don’t leave. Wait for me there.”
After the call ended, Jiang Yining slowly lowered the phone.
Her strength gave out.
She sank onto the rug.
Through her tear blurred vision, it felt as though a beam of light had finally pierced through eight years of darkness.
For the first time since waking in this unfamiliar world—
She was no longer alone.